


Days like this

by Ivyfics (ivannab)



Series: Days like this [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Blowjobs, Cockwarming, Comeplay, Dacryphilia, Established Relationship, Facials, Felching, Fisting, Hajime likes making Tooru happy, Kinktober, M/M, Manhandling, Objectification, Orgasm Denial, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Tooru likes being used, cum as lube, it’s self inflicted, kind of, that sounds super weird but it’s true
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-01-19 00:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12398934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivannab/pseuds/Ivyfics
Summary: This is his favorite, when he’s just a hole to fuck.Tooru isn't getting fucked.Hajime is jerking off using Tooru’s ass.Kinktober # 6: Objectification/ CockwarmingKinktober # 7: Comeplay/ FelchingKinktober # 8: Denial/Dacryphilia/Fisting





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm... yeah. Okay. Sure. I have absolutely no excuse.

> _Hajime. Use me. Whenever you want. However you want._

When Tooru said those words, that request, all those months ago he didn’t expect to be so thoroughly satisfied.

This is his favorite, when he’s just a hole to fuck.

Tooru isn’t getting fucked.

Hajime is jerking off using Tooru’s ass. Or his mouth, or whatever part of him Hajime wants to use that time.

It doesn’t happen all day, or everyday, but a guy can dream.

In the end it’s about when Hajime wants to use him, so it’s the anticipation, knowing that Tooru is going to be useful to him.  

It comes out of nowhere.

Hajime just bends him over, or makes him kneel, Tooru falling open for the cock in front of him.

Hajime keeps him still, fucking into his mouth until he comes. He makes sure Tooru swallows it all, puts himself away and goes on about his day without a word.

Tooru keeps himself as clean as he can, as slick as he can, plugged and stretched.  

When his ass is being used, he’ll hold the plug and wait until Hajime fills him up, hard and fast before putting the plug back in.

Today has been a dream.

Finals are approaching and when Hajime gets stressed his sex drive skyrockets. It helps him burn off excess stress, keeps his head clear and from getting too antsy.

Tooru gets used a lot those days.

His ass is full from when Hajime got off in the morning, after Tooru took a shower, and then again in the afternoon right when he was doing laundry. Thinking about it makes his dick throb where it’s pressed against his briefs, hard and leaking.

Not a single sound came from behind him before he was being pushed over to lay on the table where he was folding, t.v playing an old drama he was re-watching.

 

> The sound of the television masks everything else, Tooru’s knees grazing against the plush carpet. Laundry still warm from the sun, barely there heat seeps through Tooru’s fingers as he smooths out wrinkles before folding. It’s sloppy, Hajime’s the one who really gets it perfect, but it’s his turn and Hajime doesn’t mind, even if he knows it’s because Tooru pays more attention to whatever’s playing in front of him than what his hands are doing.
> 
> On the screen the Emperor is sharing secrets with his mistress–a mistake, obviously, since Tooru knows she accidentally spills and it ends up getting him killed, even if the witch manages to bring him back to life per the mistress’ request– Tooru snorts. What an idiot. 
> 
> Hajime would never.
> 
> Hajime would keep him safe all the time, and he’d do the same.
> 
> Hajime would be his most trusted, the one ruling with him.
> 
> Hajime’s pushing him on the table.
> 
> Hands managing to splay out below him before his chest hit wood, Tooru shivers the second cold air hit his cheeks in anticipation, Hajime pulling his sweats and his briefs down enough to show his entrance.
> 
> _Yes, yes, yes._
> 
> The laundry basket is next to his foot on the carpet, folded items inside and the ones to come on the table. Just in case something like this happened.
> 
> Hajime tries, and he’s learning, but something tells Tooru he’d see the chance of putting all of Tooru’s efforts to waste and decide against using him.
> 
> Filled with anticipation, Tooru goes pliant. Lets Hajime move him whichever way he wants, sharp contrast to the adrenaline coursing in his veins.  
> 
> His sweats are halfway down his ass, no need for more. That’s enough for Hajime to pull out the plug keeping him ready, securing it around Tooru’s hand,  and to ram into him. Hajime’s lubed up. There’s no need to waste any time. 
> 
> Tooru is in _heaven_ , panting, body swaying with the force behind Hajime’s thrusts.
> 
> Sometimes, Hajime takes his time, working himself out until he’s well and ready. Others are just about coming, and the way Hajime is pounding into him is more about getting off as fast as he can. If he’s really lucky, Hajime will make Tooru drink the cum out of him, pulling away from his ass to shove it in his mouth. 
> 
> He’s not, but Hajime’s grunts as he finishes inside him fills him with a deep sense of satisfaction no orgasm can reach.
> 
> Hajime doesn’t ask if he got off, or tries to please him. It’s all about him, about getting off.
> 
> He might as well be using a fleshlight.
> 
> That comparison brings joy to Tooru where he keeps himself hard in his pants, plugging himself before any of Hajime’s cum can escape him.
> 
> Putting himself back in his pants, Hajime goes back to the study, door shutting gently behind him. Tooru follows suit after a while, cheek cooling against wood, laundry scattered on the carpet. He goes back to folding their laundry, just in time for the big plot twist.

It took some time before Hajime learned to be selfish. To not care about Tooru as well.

The first few times Hajime tried to reciprocate, and while sex together is always good, it wasn’t this.

_Just a cum hole._

Tooru likes being used, being a thing to take care of Hajime without any worry or concern for himself, the way Hajime always takes care of  him.

It’s not something they do for long stretches at a time, but for the short time they do, it’s fucking fantastic.

* * *

He’s been keeping Hajime’s cock warm in his mouth where they are in the study, Hajime on the chair and Tooru kneeling underneath. The girth of Hajime’s cock fills  his mouth to the brim, jaw aching, his own cock wet.  

Tooru’s been kept at the peak of arousal since they started their play, not giving himself any release. Hajime won’t, so Tooru has to do it, but he doesn’t want to.

Hajime’s hips tilt upward every now and again, or give small abortive motions, cock rubbing against Tooru’s tongue. The most he does is swallow when there’s too much spit pooling. If Hajime wanted to cum, he’d fuck his mouth, so Tooru’s  job is to be a coocksheath.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, but his knees are numb, his forehead sweaty with the effort of keeping himself still.

It’s a haze, a blurring of one moment to the next, eyes closed to plunge Tooru into darkness, hearing fading away. He’s brought back to earth by Hajime’s hand in his hair, pulling it back softly, a small break in their play to make sure Tooru is all there. Fingers run through his strands several times, pushing the sweaty hair away from clammy skin.

It’s a touch filled with affection before it turns hard by Hajime’s cock plunging hard to the back of his throat. Tears fill Tooru’s eyes, trying to control his breathing when Hajime’s keeping him there by clamping on the back of his head, nose brushing his pelvis.

Tooru’s released, breathing hard and trying to get himself under control when he’s being hauled to the chair, limbs and frame thrown around like it’s nothing.

Like he’s not 6 feet tall and heavy in his own right.

Like he’s nothing to Hajime but a ragdoll for Hajime to throw around, and a moan escapes him, Hajime ignoring it.

Being thrown around by Hajime gets Tooru hot like nobody’s business. It’s good that Hajime’s impatient now, cock still wet with Tooru’s spit, thick and ropey.

They’ve apparently been there a while because Hajime takes the time to plunge fingers inside him after the plug is discarded, sweats straining between his open legs, loosening his muscles while cum’s running down Hajime’s arm, white streaks on a sea of tan. He’s been stretched all day, so he doesn’t need much. Hajime doesn’t waste any, stained hand rubbing his cock before the head is breaching.

Hajime fucks his hole slow. Slow, slow, slow, slooooow.

He’s in no rush, apparently, and Tooru isn’t going anywhere until Hajime decides he’s done. Hands are on Tooru’s waist, his back leaned back on Hajime’s chest. Hajime is warm. He’s been wearing the sweater Tooru got him for the ugly sweater christmas party from two years ago.

It’s so fucking endearing that is makes Tooru think how cute Hajime is even when his ass is being slammed in brutally slow.

Tomorrow is going to be fantastic.

After a day like today, where Tooru has been thoroughly used and filled, Hajime is going to spoil him _rotten_.

He’ll start the day by fucking him awake, kissing Tooru’s nape sweetly and telling him how good he’s been. When he’s awake and sated, Hajime is going to run him a bath and clean him out properly before making him cum again.

They’ll spend the day together and before they go to bed Hajime is going to bury himself deep in Tooru, until he’s fallen fast asleep.

He _loves_ days like this.

Days where it’s just him and Hajime, in all the ways they can possible be close to each other.

Tooru said that _this_ , being nothing but a cocksleeve, a place to store cum, was his favorite.

Tooru was lying.

 _This_ is his favorite but so is Hajime making love to him, sweet and praise falling from his lips without measure, skin and trailing fingers that touch him more than what this physical realm can hold.

Tooru on his knees, riding Hajime’s face until he’s hoarse and dry with nothing left to offer up to the burn that is being loved the way he is.

Doing nothing but snuggling on the couch while watching reruns and telling each other about their days.

 _That_ is his favorite. Whatever he does with Hajime is his favorite.

In the meantime, he’ll enjoy the feeling of Hajime holding his hips still with his large grip, pleasing himself as he likes until he spends inside Tooru, keeping his cock warm for as long as he’d like.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinktober # 7 set in the same timeline thing. I've added another chapter after this, which is also a kinktober thing.

Tooru loves being right.

He  _ loooooooooves _ it. 

Not as much as he loves Hajime but it’s right up there. 

The back of his neck is still tingling from this morning when he woke to Iwa’s grunts by his ears and his teeth latched on. If you haven’t been woken up with a litany of praise and an orgasm, boy are you missing out. 

Teeth mark going a deeper red than it was that morning, Tooru wears it as a badge of honor. It’s not going to go away for a couple of days and the tube of concealer in Tooru’s drawer for his occasional dark circles is going to go nowhere near it.

It stings when the water of the tub hits it the first few times, but every throb serves as a reminder that it’s there where Tooru’s eyes can’t see. They keep the water level low so that it doesn’t overflow when they inevitably end up doing more, the current edge high enough to cover the mark, Tooru’s head barely above it where his lap is being held up and dry by Hajime. 

It’s not the most comfortable he’s ever been while he’s getting his cock sucked but any type of complaining is lost in the barely there bobbing of Hajime’s head where he’s hard. 

Tongue flattening over his slit, Hajime pulls off with a smile that spells both trouble and a great time. Hajime’s– gorgeous, slick with water, muscles glistening– hand reaches back to start draining the tub.

Tooru holds back his need to fistpump in response, excitement coursing through his body at whatever it is that’s running around in Hajime’s head that he needs to drain the tub for. 

When the water level’s low enough, Tooru finds out. Hajime goes hard, harder than the light teasing, tongue flicking he’d being doing before. He starts by pulling one of Tooru's balls into his mouth and sucking. People don’t pay enough attention to those. 

He doesn’t stay there for long, trailing back up until he’s got Tooru’s cock sliding in and out of his wet stretched out lips, working it deeper and deeper. The tip of his nose it rubbing against Tooru’s happy trail, eyes watery and chin sloppy with spit. 

Unlike Tooru, Hajime doesn’t like being held there, so Tooru’s fingers only run up his arms, anchoring themselves on Hajime’s shoulders, leaving half moons behind in their wake. Hajime is a cock sucking champion. 

It’s what runs through Tooru’s head with every tremble of his thighs, every tremor, every spasm of his core. They’ve practiced enough on each other, been doing it together so long that Hajime knows exactly what to do bring Tooru to the brink in no time, knows exactly what that tear stained face does to him, and Tooru is  _ so so weak _ .  

He comes with a shout, slapping Hajime’s arm in warning and then hanging on for dear life when all it does is make Hajime sink deeper on him and hollow out his cheeks. Tooru got worked to the brink the day before, over and over, and somehow, through the grace of the holy spirit, managed not come. 

Do you know how hard it is not to get off when you have Iwaizumi motherfucking Hajime balls deep in your ass and grunting with his sexy voice in your ears? 

Tooru earned the high yelp, and Hajime’s hands holding down his hips, and the vision of seeing Hajime’s throat bob on Tooru’s cock right before he brings his head higher to suck on the head of Tooru’s cock, small trail of cum escaping his lips and down his chin included. 

He thinks Hajime is going to keep going, keep giving him stimulation until he’s red in the face and beyond tears. Today is not that kind of day and Hajime backs off when he’s all cleaned up, trailing upwards to kiss him, Tooru’s cum still in his mouth.

They kiss messy, uncaring of the cum between them, Tooru sucking on Hajime’s tongue weakly with whatever strength Hajime didn’t steal from him. 

They break away, head dipping so that Tooru can lick up the stray line of white dripping down Hajime’s face. 

Hajime’s cock is hot where it lays against Tooru’s. Hajime takes in his hand and slaps it against Tooru’s crotch, sneaking up to stroke it. Tooru waits for Hajime to stop stroking himself, to do the minimal effort it would take to finger him open at this point, to fuck him and fill him with cum. 

Hajime isn’t. 

He’s going to cum using his hand, intention clear in his rapid strokes. 

Tooru’s not having it. He pushes up, until he and Hajime are face to face, takes over where Hajime’s hand is moving.

He smiles, pecking Hajime’s cheek, “Inside.”

They can’t indulge like this when Tooru has his regular practice is on so he’s going to make the best of it while he still can. Hajime is debating it, tracing his rim with light pressure. It’s puffy and sensitive from all the use he got yesterday. Tooru does not care.

“Hajime. Inside,” Tooru insists. 

You’d think that Tooru, with all his kinks and things that make him tick, would be the less vanilla one in their relationship. 

The perks of your and your boyfriend being each other’s first means that you discover what you like in and out of bed together, that you experiment with each other and figure each other out. 

Hajime is just as filthy, just as excited for the things Tooru likes. It’s how he knows what Tooru wants at times like this, when he’s already spent but wants more. 

Hard and red tipped, he lets himself sink inside Tooru until the crown of his cock is being hugged by a ring of muscle. Instead of thrusting forward or sinking in fully, he keeps himself there and strokes himself, pumping what his hand can reach. 

It makes Tooru gasp, breathing rapid and shallow. His legs are trembling. Hajime jerks off with the tip in, just to come inside him, to get him warm and full. 

Tooru is so fucking lucky. 

Hajime comes with a bite to his bottom lip and the flexing of his abs which is almost as good as the feeling of his cum dripping out of Tooru when he pulls out. Tooru lays back, happy and ready to be wiped and carried off. 

Except. 

He’s not. 

He’s yanked down–or up?– hips propped up on Hajime’s tights at an angle that makes his knees hit his chest, hair trailing on the wet porcelain on the tub. Strong hands pry his thighs apart, leaving his hole exposed. 

The entire thing happens in the space of around three seconds, and then he has a view of the top of Hajime’s head when he leans in, puffs of breath hitting Tooru’s rim,  spent cock twitching in interest again. 

If–fuck– if Hajime gets him off again he’ll come all over his chest and his face. It’s got him moaning before Hajime has put him mouth on him again. Hajime licks a long strip over Tooru’s hole, tongue flat and broad, before he’s facing Tooru from above. A smirk blooms, one that tells him Hajime’s just realised the same thing he did and that it most definitely is going to happen.

  
Hajime dives back in, tongue prodding and licking. Tooru is so sensitive it should be bordering on painful but Hajime has driven him so much farther to the edge than this before that it doesn’t even compare. It’s bearable, even if Tooru’s cock keeps twitching and slowly thickening with every lick. 

Then Hajime brings his fingers into play. He hooks two of them on Tooru’s rim, pressing down before plunging them in and crooking.  Warm trails drip from him at the motion, Hajime cleaning up after every one. Thick fingers go deeper each time, scraping Tooru’s walls and fucking him in tandem, Tooru’s cock now at full attention. 

When Hajime reaches his prostrate and focuses on it, Tooru knows he’s gone. He’s not getting stretched so scissoring isn’t needed but when Hajime splays his fingers as wide as they can go and sucks, it’s game over. Tooru comes weak, spurts hitting his chest, cheek, chin, while his ass clenches and convulses around Hajime's fingers. 

He maybe blacks out of a second, or maybe his eyes close, because when he’s blinking his sight clear again it’s to Hajime sucking on the fingers that just brought him to orgasm, eyes glazed and breathing hard. 

Tooru feels numb. From shaking his orgasm induced heaviness as best he can, to being carefully unbent by Hajime into leaning back on the side of the tub and feeling him lick Tooru’s face clean, he’s grasping at regaining feeling in his hands. 

A second bath, or maybe a shower, is in order but it was worth it. 

He can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can come yell at me on:  
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ivyfics)  
> [NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/lilacsparklr)  
> [Tumblr ](http://ivyfics.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Hajime all but slams the door when he gets home, reeking of trouble. Back tight, shoulders tense, the vein in his forehead popping out clear from where Tooru is lounging on their couch, legs draped over the armrest. 

When Hajime sets down his bag on the table with slow, careful motions Tooru’s cheeks begin to light up. 

Most people wouldn’t feel a rush of heat at seeing their loved one have a shitty day.

Tooru isn’t most people. 

You see, unless Tooru himself has done something to piss Hajime off, having his boyfriend wound up tight spells the best kind of trouble on the planet. The kind where he ends face down, ass up, and incoherent. 

It’s what telegraphs now through Hajime’s gait as he walks to where Tooru is. Runs through his hands when they reach out. 

Grips the back of his neck tight to bring his face up, jerking it hard, just to have Hajime’s lips brush his forehead, intentions clear. Hajime’s lips stay there for a moment, two. Enough for Tooru to protest, or to wrap his arms around his waist and bring him down gently. Tooru doesn’t. 

He lets gravity to leaden his limbs and closes his eyes on an exhale. 

It reads plainly where he’s all but propelled off the couch, steel bands around his shoulder. Hajime  _ needs  _ this. 

Having Hajime take out his stress on Tooru is  _ A-ok. _

Like being a squishy stress ball but with sex. Or with cuddles, either way is a great plan, but more often than not Tooru lets things get more physically rough.  

Has he ever thanked the stars above for pairing Hajime—someone who literally fucks all of their stress away— with someone like Tooru, who loves being crushed by Hajime’s hand in whatever way that might bring?

Next time. 

Next time he’s on his knees he’ll send a quick glance above, mouth full of cock and gratitude. 

Sadly, wonderfully, that won’t be today. Oh no, no. 

Iwa’s so stiff—and he’d say _ not in the good way _ but this is definitely going to be good for Tooru. So good. 

If he knows Hajime, and he does, like no one else in whatever universes and dimensions there might be, he’s not going to get a chance to put his mouth anywhere tonight. Maybe on his lips, when Iwa decides he wants to suck on Tooru’s tongue. 

Today’s the kind of day where he’s more likely to get fingerprints draped on the column of his neck, nips and bites to the back of his spine, and hips too sore to walk comfortably the next day.

* * *

It’s not often Tooru’s wrong. 

Much less when it comes to Hajime. He’s not entirely off track but he missed the mark on some finer things. Tooru can handle not being a thousand percent accurate on the details right now. 

It’s not like he has a choice, not with Hajime taking him apart piece by piece with a croon and hot, loving hands. Praise and marks and bruises. Slow and steady, carefully letting them boil. 

Tooru doesn’t feel like a person. He’s not. 

He’s transcended. 

He’s  _ a feeling. _

He’s the sweet nothings Hajime’s whispering in his ear, the way his hair is pulled back to get teeth marks where his throat bobs, the slow clawing gasp for air when fingers meet his pulse and  _ press.  _

He’s hot sweaty sheets pressed to his back, every  _ Ah! _ and  _ please _ lost in heavy pants and every move of Hajime’s hand where Tooru is dripping, hard and wanting. Spreading, teasing digits working overtime to get him ready and there. Time is nothing, fizzing away somewhere between the first time Hajime told him  _ No _ with a mouth shiny with spit and precome, and the first stretch of delving fingers after he was full of Hajime’s cum. 

Hajime needs it.

He needs what Tooru becomes for him in their bedroom, on their sheets, slick with lube running down the juncture of his thighs to pool on the bed. 

“Baby… Relax.” Hajime warbles, pausing where he’s been working on littering Tooru’s collarbone with spots of purple, “Let loose, come on, just like that.”  

Tooru’s nails bury themselves on the skin of Hajime’s shoulder, trying. “Please, please.”

“One more, come on.”

_ One more _ is what Hajime said the last time and the time before that, and it’s what he’ll say the next time, and the one after that until there’s nothing left of Tooru to be, to feel.  

It might be pleasure or it might be pain but Tooru is too raw, too overworked, to tell the difference.  _ One more _ doesn’t feel possible not when there’s four slick fingers deep in his ass and a hand fisting his cock and the entire collision that is Hajime trying his best to make Tooru unravel. 

Tooru might get the details wrong the first time but he’s so fucking clear on it now. 

Hard not to be when he’s been tethering on the edge for God knows how many times now, balls tight and sore. He can’t come, not yet, not until Hajime get what he needs, not stopping to get Tooru right there, just a little more, before ripping it from him and starting all over again. 

Hajime spreads his fingers then, lets them rub against his walls and every rational thought blanks. It’s too much, and not enough, and he wants to come. Tooru clenches down on reflex and lets out a sob, Hajime trying to coax the strain out of his muscles. Soothes him to not curl up. Tries to kiss the desperation away. 

Tooru almost, almost, says  _ I can’t. _

Nearly lets it spill. He’s bitten it down as many times as Hajime’s hand has stroked, but he  _ can _ , and he wants to, and the reward is so much sweeter at the end when he’s half convinced there’s no next until there is.

So what he does is plead. Pleads for any scrap of mercy, for Hajime to keep stroking his cock and fucking him with his thick, skilled fingers. 

Pleads that it’ll be enough soon, that he can sate Hajime with how much he’s aching.

Hajime fucks him with his fingers without rush, every brush over his prostate making him jump counteracted by the ring of Hajime’s fingers over the base of his cock. Tooru doesn’t know what’s worse (better), when Hajime doesn’t let him come or when all he does is bring him to orgasm, over and over. He’d suck on Satan’s asshole to be able to come at least once right now. 

Hajime’s kneeling in between Tooru’s spread legs, close so that he can lean up for a kiss whenever he wants. He does now and Tooru answers, eager. 

“Haji,” Tooru pants into Hajime’s mouth, not above begging, “please, please. Let me, please.”

Hajime shushes him with a nip. “Almost there. Just a little bit more. Don’t wanna hurt you.” 

Tooru’s head shakes a little _ too  _ hard. He wants it. “I’m ready, let me.” 

Hajime sighs in defeat, fake, the feverish glint in his eyes sparkling and reaches for the lube. He pulls his fingers away from Tooru, releases his cock to leave him dripping on Tooru’s hip, earning him a moan. 

Drenching is the only word for it. Generously coating his palm, his knuckles, the tips of his fingers with lube. Tooru exhales out harsh trying to be relaxed and limber, opposite to the frenetic beat of his heart. 

Hajime notices and rewards him with a kiss to his knee, caging him in with his body, gorgeous sweaty limbs. 

Tooru is so loose. Hajime’s been playing with him for what feels like hours, has fucked him with his cock, teased him with his fingers, been diligent to keep him wet and sloppy so that now, when he tapers his fingers and sticks his thumb to the inside of his palm, Tooru can take him. 

The stretch is an entirely distinct experience. Nothing else feels like this. Nothing is comparable to the knuckles of Hajime’s strong and wide hand go slow—so fucking slow, always so careful, always making it  _ so  _ good for Tooru—past his rim to settle inside him. 

The curl of his fingers into the palm to make a fist and  _ oh, God, he’s so fucking close _ —

Tooru falls apart. 

Whines hard and loud because it’s the only thing he can do, ripped from his chest without a need to think. Hajime hums at him, kisses his temple, like Tooru’s sweet and adorable in his itch to crawl out of his skin. Keens before it hitches and he breaks, opens to wail but is met with silence. 

Hot, molten salt spills over his cheeks, runs down the bridge of his nose, overspills over the cliff of his temple. It mixes with sweat and matted hair, gets picked up by Hajime’s tongue before it has a chance to meet the sheets. 

It doesn’t hurt, Hajime prepped him more than enough, but the stretch is tight, and wonderful, and too much when Tooru’s been spread so thin. 

Tooru cries, silent fat tears that appease Hajime’s agitation. They bring him down to earth, to their bed.

Tooru cranes his neck to see but the wet veil over his eyes makes everything to blurry so he lets his head fall back. Each rocking motion of Hajime inside him brings out a new batch of tears leaking from him, a new round of Hajime licking and kissing them away, straightening his back to look at Tooru every so often from further away, enamored. 

Hajime’s hand isn’t on his cock anymore. It runs back and forth on his side, soothing. It hits Tooru, making him choke in his haste, biting out between sobs, “Hajime, can I, can I, please?”

Hajime nods against his skin, hand going from his side to push his hair back, knuckles rocking forward to grind minutely inside him working along with every clench of Tooru around him. That’s all it takes. 

Tooru thinks he might have blacked out a little. 

Possibly. 

There’s cum on his chest, and the tail end of Hajime pulling out from inside him, as slow as he got in. His bones are lead, deep-seated content pulling him down, head too heavy to do anything other than stare at the ceiling while the universe spins around him. 

Too large for his own body, there’s only Hajime clinging to him and, “Thank you, baby. Looked so good. Love you, Tooru.”

Clean up comes next, and lots of it. A bath, maybe, and tangled limbs as an imperative. 

That is not Tooru’s problem, though. 

His only concern in laying there, exhausted and worn, floating away. He hums impatient sounds, throat too rough from overuse to bother trying to produce actual words, his eyes closed until Hajime scoops him up and cradles him to warm water. 

When they’re clean, and the bedsheets aren’t a pool of filth, they lay down, Hajime’s ear over his chest. 

Tooru threads his fingers on Hajime’s hair and basks in the weight on his chest. 

Tomorrow, they’ll talk.

They’ll work out whatever’s wrong, together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant it when I said I was going to finish the kinktober prompts. This was supposed to be overstimulation instead of denial but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> You can come yell at me on:  
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ivyfics)  
> [Tumblr ](http://ivyfics.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Someone coming that much is probs not realistic but eeeeeeeeeh 
> 
> You can come yell at me on:  
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ivyfics)  
> [NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/lilacsparklr)  
> [Tumblr ](http://ivyfics.tumblr.com/)


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